My Immortal
by Bambi23
Summary: Warning: Spoilers for Season 3 Based on Season 3 Episode 6, Derek finds Stiles instead of Ms. Blake and actually ends up dying. AU Fluff and Angst, Slow Build, Humor, References to Suicide, Depression, Alcoholism, Emotional Baggage, OC's & Non-Graphic Violence. My first Teen Wolf fic, so please be gentle.
1. My Immortal

_You used to captivate me with your resonating light_

_Now I'm bound by the life you left behind_

_Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams_

_Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

_This pain is just too real_

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_My Immortal - Evanescence _

* * *

_Blood covered Stiles' hands as he tried to keep the man lying in his lap alive._

_"Derek, please, please, please stay awake, don't die, fucking stay awake." Stiles begged, shaking the slowly fading body, trying desperately to keep him alive._

_Derek's grasp on Stiles' arm slowly began to loosen as his life slowly faded from him. _

_Stiles shook Derek again, harder this time, more desperately. "Derek, keep your eyes on me, just breathe, Scott and Isaac are on their way, just keep your eyes on me." _

_Derek tried to keep his eyes open, he really did, but everything was spinning, and there were spots dancing across his vision. Honestly, he could barely see anything but the blurry outline of Stiles' face. He could feel every fiber of his being shutting down and he didn't even bother to keep trying to stay alive, he just couldn't anymore, he was tired, and he was hurting, he had lost every little will to survive and he didn't care. __**He just wanted it all to end**__._

_Derek forced his eyes to open, gave Stiles the best smile he could manage and whispered, "I'm sorry." and that was it, he was gone._

_Stiles let the tears roll down his cheeks as he cradled Derek's lifeless body and let out a cry in agony._

Stiles woke up screaming; his heart felt ready to burst and he could barely breathe.

Stiles clutched his chest and tried to calm his pounding heart.

It took a few moments before his heart began beating regularly again, once it did Stiles sighed heavily.

That wasn't the first time he had that dream, he had had it several times actually, too many to count, and it got worse each time.

That terrible day had occurred five years ago and Stiles still couldn't find it in himself to forget about it.

Everything had changed for Stiles after that day, he stopped talking to everyone acquainted with Derek, he even stopped talking to Scott.

The first few weeks after Derek's death had been terrible; the nightmares were a constant thing at the time. The memories haunted him often; sometimes they were so terrible he would have a panic attack. It didn't happen often but every time it happened was fucking terrifying. And Stiles wasn't even going to mention the self harm that followed with Derek's death.

Stiles had kept most of the details from his dad, just told him that he lost a good friend but he'd be okay.

He had been lying; his current life only seemed to prove that further. He was good at putting up a front though, so his dad didn't seem to notice. Nobody seemed to notice, and Stiles was just fine with that.

Stiles had graduated high school at 17 and moved out of his dad's place a year later, he stayed in California but stayed as far away from Beacon Hills as possible.

Stiles shook his head; he wasn't going to think about this right now. Stiles ran a hand through his hair before checking the time, it was 7:30.

"Shit!" Stiles exclaimed, jumping out of bed and hastily pulling on a pair of jeans, he had exactly thirty minutes to get to work or his boss (who just so happened to be a fucking asshole) would make him work late again.

Stiles scrambled over to his closet, grabbed his work shirt and tugged it over his head as quickly as possible. Stumbling out of his bedroom and into his living room Stiles grabbed his black converse and his car keys, he was about to leave the house when he heard a soft whimper from behind him.

Stiles turned around to see his dog (wolf dog to be precise) staring at him expectantly.

Stiles' lips quirked upwards in a small smile. "I almost forgot," (which was a lie by the way, he _did_ forget) Stiles said with a sigh he head into the kitchen and fed the dog as quickly as possible.

The moment he set the dog bowls on the floor he was heading towards the door again. Stiles was half way out the door when he peeked his head back inside. "Sorry I can't take you out for a walk today Shep, I'm late again, but I promise when I get back we'll go for a nice long run, okay?" Shep barked in response and Stiles grinned. "See ya later!" Stiles called before shutting the door and heading to his Jeep.

* * *

Stiles had made it to his job at the local book store with literally one second to spare. He grinned in triumph as he walked through the door.

His boss was standing at the door with a scowl on his face. "You're damn lucky Stilinski," His boss stated gruffly. "I was just about ready to give you the late shift _and_ make you reorganize the book shelves."

"Yeah, well, I'm on time, so no late shifts or organizing book shelves for me." Stiles said trying to keep the bubbling rage out of his voice.

His boss just rolled his eyes and turned around, walking back to his office in the back of the store.

Stiles stuck his tongue out at him as he left. "Bastard…" He muttered under his breath.

"Late for work again, Stilinksi?" said a female voice from behind him.

Stiles turned to see his co-worker Erin leaning up against a wall, a knowing smirk plastered on her face.

Erin was a little taller than Stiles and had always teased him about it, she was a blonde with short wavy hair, she had beautiful hazel eyes that Stiles felt he could stare at for eternity, she was a sweetheart and was always there for Stiles but she never thought twice about calling Stiles out on his shit if she needed to.

Stiles was a little apprehensive about making friends when he first got employed but after a while he came to enjoy her presence and now they were so close they were almost siblings.

Stiles sighed, "Nope, he's just being an asshole, like always."

Erin chuckled, "Sounds like our boss."

Stiles headed to the door to switch the sign to open. While Stiles settled in for duty he began talking. "Sooooo what's been goin' on with you, anything' new with you and Jake?" That was Erin's long term boyfriend, she loved him a lot, but recently he's been dealing with some drug issues and Erin's been having to put up with his shit.

Erin shook her head. "Nah, same as always, my boyfriend's still an idiot and I still refuse to leave him. What about you? Find a lucky lady yet?" She said with a wolfish grin.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "No, I have not found a lucky lady yet, thank you very much."

Erin sighed, "You seriously need to get out more, Stilinski. You're an awesome guy; you deserve an equally awesome girl."

Stiles let his lips curl upwards in a lazy smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I just… I dunno, just doesn't sit right with me, y'know? I'm just not sure whether or not I'm ready."

Erin just nodded in silent understanding.

Just then a customer walked through the door.

Erin was about to ask her if she needed any help but instead came up to Stiles and whispered. "Just try to get out and stop being so hard on yourself, alright?"

Stiles nodded and Erin ruffled his hair and gave him a lopsided grin. "Good, now I'm gonna get back to work like the good employee I am."

* * *

By the time the bookstore had closed later, Stiles was exhausted, and he hadn't even done that much.

To tell the truth he hadn't really done anything, business was pretty slow that day and Erin dealt with most of the customers. Honestly all Stiles had really done was ring up some stuff for a few customers and read John Green's '_Looking For Alaska' _when he had free time.

Erin had left as soon as the store closed, claiming that it was Stiles' turn to close up the shop (even though he had closed shop the last five days). His boss had also left early, saying something about a family emergency, Stiles didn't really remember, he rarely ever listened to his boss when he talked.

So Stiles was left alone to close up shop, he was just about to lock up and leave when he heard the front door open. "The shop is closed, sorry!" He called, grabbing his bag and rounding the corner.

"We'll be open at eight tomorrow morning if you want to…come…by… later…" His sentence trailed off and his voice became significantly higher.

"S-Stiles..." The man breathed heavily, he looked exhausted.

Stiles stared in disbelief, frozen in place. _It couldn't be; there was no way._

Stiles' throat felt dry and scratchy, he tried to speak but no words came out.

"Stiles…" The man repeated, it came out smoother this time, less pained, but exhaustion was still plain in his voice.

Stiles had to swallow several times before he was able to speak again. "D-Derek…?"

"Stiles… I-I…" Before Derek could finish the sentence he passed out on the book store floor.

Stiles was at his side in a second, he quickly checked for a pulse. Thankfully, Derek had a pulse, it wasn't weak but it wasn't as strong as he would have wanted either.

Quickly and carefully Stiles pulled Derek up and slung Derek's arm around his shoulder, dragging him out of the book store and to his Jeep.

It took Stiles a while to get Derek into the Jeep but eventually, he did. Stiles climbed into the driver's seat and stared at the man in the seat next to him.

_This was actually happening, Derek was back, he was actually back, holy mother of God, __**Derek was back**__._

Stiles didn't even try to hide the ridiculous grin that spread across his face; it's not like anybody could see him anyway.

The drive to Stiles' apartment was a slow one, well, at least it seemed slow, agonizingly so to tell the truth.

When they finally, _finally_ reached Stiles' apartment, Stiles had a hard time getting Derek out of the car without banging his head up against another car, or just dropping him flat on the pavement.

Stiles dragged Derek to his apartment on the second floor, which was also a challenge and Stiles really had no idea how he had managed it.

Surprisingly Stiles made it into the apartment without killing Derek or himself.

Stiles unlocked the door to his apartment and _damn, Derek was friggin' heavy. _

Stiles was dragging Derek inside when he heard Shep bark happily. "Um, Shep, we're gonna have to cancel that run for today, we've got bigger problems." Stiles said, leaning Derek's limp body against the small sofa in his living room.

When Stiles settled down on the couch with Shep curled up next to him, Stiles decided to take that time to think.

_Derek's back, he's alive, no more nightmares, no more panic attacks, no more cutting himself, no more alcohol to wash way the pain, no more thoughts of suicide, no more anything because Derek's back, and Stiles isn't letting him go anywhere, not while he's still alive anyway. _

Stiles fell asleep listening to Derek's steady heartbeats and Shep's light snoring.


	2. Never Let This Go

_Maybe if my heart stops beating_

_It won't hurt this much_

_And never will I have to answer_

_Again to anyone_

_Please don't get me wrong_

_Because I'll never let this go_

_But I can't find the words to tell you_

_I don't want to be alone_

_But now I feel like I don't know you_

_Never Let This Go - Paramore_

* * *

When Derek woke up everything hurt, he was tired, he was weak, his vision was shitty, and his limbs felt like jelly.

He yawned heavily before his vision came into place. Looking around, Derek realized something; _he had no idea where he was._

It took him a moment or two to stand but when he did he quickly examined his surroundings.

He was in a decent size apartment, nothing fancy, just the small couch, an entertainment center with a flat screen on top, a friggin' huge dog crate next to the couch (which Derek would be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit interested in), a small table for two, a kitchen, and a sink full of dirty dishes.

Then, there was the two bedrooms and bathroom once you cross the hallway.

Derek hadn't even realized that his sense of smell had been dormant until it hit him full force.

Derek's other senses were crowded by the onslaught of smells; there were too many to pick out but one very, _very_ distinct smell hit Derek like a freight train. The whole place smelled like Stiles.

_Holy crap; __**Stiles**_.

He didn't remember much but he did remember finding a very shocked and confused Stiles, after that everything went black.

Derek sighed in frustration; Peter was right, coming back from the dead does take a lot out of you.

But of course that left a very important question; _how did he come back from the dead in the first place?_

Well actually, being back left a lot of questions, questions like where was the pack? Did they defeat Deucalion? Did they figure out who the Darach was? Did they defeat the Darach too? How long has he been dead? How did he find Stiles? _And where the hell was Stiles now_?

Nothing could ever be simple, could it?

Derek huffed and ran a hand through his hair, which he didn't realize was so messy until now. Hopefully Stiles wouldn't mind him taking a shower.

_Well, might as well check things out. _

Derek straightened up and strode (albeit clumsily) into the kitchen.

From afar the kitchen didn't look to bad but now that he was actually in it… the place was a shit stack.

_Damn, did the kid ever clean_?

Derek rolled his eyes to ignore the mess and fucking _terrible_ smells (thank you very much werewolf senses).

Derek kept examining the kitchen until he got bored, Derek was about to leave and go 'explore' a little more until he saw the fridge. Honestly, Derek hadn't realized he was hungry, but according to his stomach, he was.

Derek smiled lazily and was just about to open the fridge door until he saw a folded piece of paper with the words 'FOR DEREK' written on them, taped to the door.

Derek pulled off the note, unfolded it, and began to read.

'_Derek,_

_I'm gone at work, I'll be back at 1:00 pm. You were passed out and I didn't wanna wake you up. There's some chicken in the fridge if you get hungry. Also I cleaned the bathroom, figured you would need to take a shower or something. If you need to change clothes you can wear some of mine (I left some clothes that I'm pretty sure should fit you folded up on the bathroom counter, I've grown a little since the last time you saw me). Also, I'd advise you to stay out of my room, it's messy as hell and Shep's in there (my wolf-dog... don't ask). Anyway, my phone number is on the fridge if you need something. Okay that's all, try not to kill yourself while I'm gone. – Stiles_

Derek let a small huff of laughter leave his lips, Stiles hadn't changed a bit.

Derek wondered how long 'the last time you saw me' was but decided to leave that for later.

* * *

After pigging out on chicken, washing the dishes (Stiles better fucking thank him for that later), taking a shower, getting dressed, going in Stiles' room even though he was strictly advised not to, taking Shep out for a quick walk, but that was after the twenty minutes it took him to get the wolf used to his presence, but eventually she did and Derek pretty much fell in love with her after that.

Shep reminded him of his mother in her wolf form, they didn't look alike considering Shep was completely white with the acceptance of a gray mark that resembled a star on her chest, but it wasn't her looks, it was her sweet, calm but still very protective attitude.

Derek had loved a lot of things about his mom but her unconditional love and support was something Derek had desperately needed over the years.

It was 12:30 and Derek literally just wanted to flop down on the couch and sleep for eternity, but he decided against it, he had questions and Stiles had answers. So instead he ventured back into the junk yard that was Stiles' room and looked for something to do, he was going to clean up a bit just to pass the time but then he noticed a bookcase and well, Derek would be damned if he didn't check out what kind of books Stiles read.

Derek wondered over to the bookcase and found a disorganized pile of books covering one shelf.

Derek silently scanned over the many authors and book titles.

Derek found Stiles' taste in books quite interesting, to be honest, he found books like _An Abundance of Katherines, The Fault in our Stars, _and_ Looking for Alaska_ all by John Green. He found a book titled '_The Book Thief' by Markus Zusak, _he found every single J.K. Rowling book in existence, The Lord of the Rings series, and lastly (and strangely the only books in order) a series called '_The_ _Secrets of The Immortal Nicholas Flamel'_ by Michael Scott, it was a relatively small collection of books but books were books. Derek debated for a while but finally decided to try out 'An Abundance of Katherines' to cure his boredom.

* * *

Stiles walked halfway into his apartment and already, he could tell something was different, like for one, he could tell someone washed dishes (which unless Shep grew opposable thumbs, meant Derek woke up and decided to clean his kitchen…_ awkward_) and he also came back to a very a bored Derek sprawled across his couch, a book in hand, and a sleeping Shep curled at his side making his position look rather awkward.

Stiles cleared his throat and shut the door behind him.

Both figures jolted to attention at the sudden noise.

Shep climbed off the couch to greet Stiles while Derek stepped off the couch and started to situate himself.

Stiles was the first to speak.

"I always pictured you as a Book Thief kind of guy." Stiles said, acknowledging the book Derek held.

Derek just shrugged.

"So you finally decided to wake up."

"Apparently so," Derek said, stretching. "Exactly how long have I been asleep?"

"Three days."

"Three days?"

Derek's voice didn't hint disbelief like Stiles would've expected, instead, he merely sounded curious; so Stiles took the opportunity to elaborate.

"Yeah, the first two days you were completely passed out; I skipped work to make sure nothing happened to you but when you have an ass for a boss you can't skip work forever. So the third day I took a late shift, hoping to find some sort of change in your disposition but you were still sound asleep, but when I got up for work this morning you had started to stir a lot in your sleep so I took that as a sign that you might be waking up, I couldn't afford to skip another day at work so I left you that note and hoped that you would wake up… and you did."

"Huh…" Derek deadpanned.

They were silent for a while; nobody said a word, just stood in a silence too awkward for Stiles' liking.

"Sooooo," Stiles began. "I see you crossed the forbidden border."

Derek raised his eyebrows in question.

"You went in my room."

Derek nodded.

"I also see you cleaned my kitchen, thanks for that."

"You better thank me, cleaning that kitchen was hell."

An awkward silence fell upon the two again.

Stiles was thinking of what to say before the silence was broken, this time by Derek… _shit_.

"How long?" Derek asked.

"How long what…?"

"How long have I been dead?"

"…Five years…"

"And what's the pack been doing for five years?"

This was the question Stiles didn't want to hear; and most definitely didn't want to answer.

Stiles didn't reply, guilt and remorse evident on his face.

"Stiles, what has the pack been doing for five years? What happened while I was gone?"

Stiles knew Derek had a right to know, hell, Derek had more than a right to know, the poor guy _needed_ to know, but Stiles wasn't exactly sure if he was ready to tell him.

"Stiles, what the hell happened when I was gone?" Derek voice wasn't filled with curiosity anymore, Derek wanted to know, and he wanted to know _now_.

"I-I don't know…"

"What do you mean 'I don't know'?" Stiles couldn't tell if Derek was confused or pissed, possibly both.

"I mean, after you died I left the pack and Beacon Hills, Derek, I honestly have no idea what happened to them, and after five years of ignoring them, Beacon Hills, and all of that other supernatural shit, I don't wanna know. So, I'm sorry, I am, but I just don't know."

Stiles expected Derek to explode, scream at him, punch him, kill him, maybe even eat him, he expected anything _but _what actually happened.

Derek actually looked sad, not for the pack, or for himself, _but for Stiles_.

"Okay." Was all that Derek said.

"O-Okay…?"

"Okay." Derek repeated.

"So that's it? You're not gonna kill me, for, y'know, leaving the pack and stuff?"

Derek just shook his head.

Stiles let out a sigh in relief. "Oh thank God, I thought I was gonna become werewolf kibble for a second there."

Derek rolled his eyes. "That's because you're overdramatic."

"No, that's because you're friggin' violent."

Derek actually laughed at that, well, as much of a laugh that you can get from a guy like Derek Hale.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Derek was back on the couch reading, while Stiles searched the pantry for a snack, well, at least that's what Derek thought he was doing; he couldn't really tell.

"Hey dude," Stiles called from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Did you eat my skittles?"

"Uhh… yeah, why?"

"…You have five seconds before I dig you a new grave." Was all that Stiles said, and by the sound of it, he was pretty damn serious.


	3. Apocalypse Dreams

_Everything is changing_

_And there is nothing I can do_

_The world is turning pages_

_And I'm just sitting here_

_Apocalypse Dreams - Tame Impala_

* * *

Derek had been staying with Stiles a little over a week now. It was sort of odd really; Derek seemed to like to do everything for Stiles… like a nanny or a mom even.

He cleaned often, cooked, took Shep out for walks when Stiles was at work, and pretty much did everything Stiles hated doing.

They didn't really talk a lot and Stiles didn't know whether he should be thankful for that or not. He also didn't know whether or not to be thankful that Derek never asked him about the pack either.

So Stiles was at work, re-organizing the same bookshelf for the thousandth time.

Business was oddly slow today so Stiles found himself bored out of his friggin' mind, plus, Erin was sick today so there was nobody to talk to.

"Still messing with those bookshelves, I see." Came a voice behind him.

Stiles jumped in surprise and turned around to see a familiar face. "Casey," he breathed. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry, just thought you could use some company."

Casey was his boss's younger brother, he came around the shop every once and a while.

He was a rather ordinary looking man; average height and build, wore the same grey shirt, dark denim jeans, and scuffed cowboy boots pretty much every time Stiles saw him, and had dark black hair that was cropped close to his skull, the only thing that really stood out about him were his eyes, that were so pale you couldn't really tell if they had any color to them at all.

Casey didn't start coming around until last week, pretty much around the same time Derek came back.

He mostly came around when his brother wasn't here to run the shop, today was apparently one of those days.

Casey kept to himself most of the time but recently he and Stiles had started somewhat of an acquaintanceship.

"What are you doing out of your office… thing?" Stiles asked.

"You're saying it like it's some sort of a prison."

Stiles shrugged. "Might as well be, you rarely ever leave the damn thing."

"That's because I'm always busy."

"And you're not busy now?"

"No. Not at the moment."

"What kind of work do you do down there anyway?"

"Nothing of your concern; before I forget, my brother has new books in stock; he wants you to get them."

"Ughhhh, why do I always have to get the books?" Stiles complained as he began to walk away.

"Oh and he wants you to put them on that empty bookshelf towards the back of the shop, and put them in order too, it's a series!" Casey called.

"UGHHHHHHH." Stiles called back.

The stock room (which was actually a cellar in the shop) was actually Stiles' favorite place in the entire bookshop. It was dirty, dusty, slightly cramped, and honestly just a terrible place to be in but Stiles loved it anyway.

Stiles sighed and searched the tables; he knew every book in the store so there was no need to be told which books were new.

Stiles spotted a box filled with Cassandra Clare books and walked over to grab it.

"We seriously haven't had any Cassandra Clare books around? Christ, even my friggin' grocery store sells these things."

With the box in hand Stiles made his way up the cellar stairs, half way up Stiles heard a loud crashing noise, at first he didn't think much of it, until he heard it again, this time louder.

Stiles dropped the box of books, grabbed the stair rail and pulled himself up.

Opening up the cellar door he popped his head out and looked around.

And in that moment he knew that his life would never be the same.

* * *

Casey stood in the middle of the bookshop, facing an odd man.

Standing across from Casey was a tall slender man in a long trench coat and suit. The man was actually quite young, probably not a lot older than himself.

Stiles realized quickly that they weren't speaking… yet something was going on between them.

Both men were standing still, their arms close to their bodies, elbows tucked in, open palms turned upward.

Casey stood in the center of the shop, while the younger man stood close to the door, three black coated companions around him.

Tendrils and wisps of green mist gathered in Casey's palms, curling in ornate patterns, drifting to the floor, where they curled and writhed like snakes.

Deep, blue tinged smoke, curled from the younger man's hands, dripping to the floor like some sort of liquid.

The air between the two men shimmered with tendrils of green and royal blue smoke, and where they touched, sparks hissed and sizzled.

Casey brought his right hand close to his lips and blew on the already open palm.

The green smoke thickened and created a thick ball of smoke; the ball bobbed in the air and began to grow rapidly.

The young man brushed his middle finger against his thumb a few times before snapping.

Blue smoke drifted around in the air before emerging with the ball.

The ball continued to bob in the air for a moment, then, it exploded.

The force of it sent both men flying backwards, crashing across the tables of books. Light bulbs popped and fluorescents shattered, raining powdery glass onto the floor.

Casey tumbled to the floor right next to his office. Casey stood up quickly and regained his posture, Stiles noticed something very quickly.

Nor Casey or the other man had been affected by the blow… at all.

The younger man was already standing, brushing glass and debris off of his sleeve.

"Cassius, this could be so much easier if you just gave me what I came for. " The man said with a sigh.

"I've said it a thousand times Ameris. _I don't have it._" Casey hissed.

"Oh but isn't that what they always say?" The man – Ameris replied. "You have one more chance to tell me before I force it out of you."

Casey chuckled but there was no real humor in it.

"Don't threaten me; if you do choose to fight, it's a fight you won't win. You're twenty seven Ameris, that's far too young to die."

Ameris dismissed Casey's comment and spoke.

"Alright Cassius, I'm nothing if not fair, I'll give you a day, a day to give me what I want, and if you don't… well, I suppose what happens to you isn't my decision now is it? Oh and before I go, did you know we had an audience?" And with that he left. The only evidence that he was there was a faint trace of blue smoke lingering in the air.

Casey closed his eyes and breathed deeply, it was all coming together, the legend was beginning. And the more Casey thought about it, the less excited he became.

"What the hell just happened?" Stiles asked, stepping out of the cellar. Ameris had been gone for ten minutes now but Stiles hadn't had the guts to leave the cellar until now.

Casey opened his eyes and turned around. _It was bound to come out sooner or later_.

"The beginning of something terrible." Casey said.

Motioning for Stiles to follow him Casey began to move towards his office.

Stiles wasn't sure if he could trust Casey or Cassius or whatever the hell his name was, but, like usual, curiosity got the better of him and he followed.

Casey stuck his hand is pocket and pulled out a key and quickly unlocked the door.

"That's it?" Stiles asked curiously.

"What?"

"There's no secret word, no scanning of hands? You just… unlock it?"

"Stiles this isn't a scene from a movie, of course I just unlock it."

"Huh…" Stiles mumbled.

"C'mon, there's something I need to show you. Something you need to be told." Casey said ushering Stiles in the office.

The office isn't really what Stiles imagined it would look like; he sorta imagined a weird lair thing, or a secret passage to a lair of some sort, just something more… dramatic, he pretty much expected anything but what it really looked like. The office looked like a normal office, a desk, a chair, a lamp. The only thing that stood out was an odd symbol painted on the back wall.

The sound of Casey's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Stiles, I know you've been trying to have a normal life since Beacon Hills, or rather, pretending to have a normal life since Beacon Hills but-"

"How do you know about Beacon Hills?" Stiles asked warily.

"Stiles it's a pretty popular town how could I not know abou-"

"That's not what I meant; I meant how do you know about my life in Beacon Hills, all the shit I went through. Who or better yet _what_ are you?"

"Stiles you're special, really, _really_ special. You saw the guy out there? His name's Ameris and he's dangerous, very dangerous actually. But he's not the worst of our problems. No he's got a boss and whoever it is wants you and he wants you now."

"Okay, before I even acknowledge what you just said, I've got a question. _What in the world are you_?" The more the man spoke the more wary Stiles became and honestly, he did not need another Peter Hale on his hands.

Casey paused, as if trying to find a way to make it sound less… insane.

"I'm a sorcerer, and so are you."

"What?"

"You're a sorcerer, Stiles, a very special sorcerer. I know it's sounds crazy but… Christ, you just have to believe me."

"Believe you? I barely know you, and the little I know about you could be complete crap! You're a sorcerer, that's great, amazing actually, hope you have fun with that but I'm pretty sure I would know if I had crazy magical powers!"

"I can prove it," He said simply. "Hold out your arm."

"Why?"

"Just do it," Casey huffed.

Reluctantly Stiles held out his right arm.

"I have one thing to tell you; don't move."

Casey closed his eyes and the same emerald green smoke began to surround his body.

"Aurelius, auream unam ego devolvat potentias alligasset intra te. Sit finis, legenda, magus, puer, et sarcinis in unum." Casey tightened his grip on his Stiles' arm and the green smoke around him flashed even brighter. "Do me a favor Stilinski," he whispered. "Don't die."

Nothing happened, everything was silent, eerily silent actually, until Stiles eyes snapped open and they weren't his usual hazel.

They were a stunning golden; the same golden color began to surround Stiles' body. It was the same sort of smoke that had been on Ameris and Casey but brighter, more powerful, more beautiful.

Then Stiles was screaming, a terrible, ear piercing noise, he kept screaming and the smoke around his body kept growing brighter. The smoke became burning hot and with a sharp yelp Casey released his grip on Stiles arm.

Then it became a sort of pattern, Stiles would continue to scream, the golden smoke would burn brighter, and Casey prayed to a God that he wasn't sure existed that everything would go okay.

Suddenly, Stiles stopped screaming, his eyes closed again, and the golden smoke began to fade. Then he fell to the floor.

Casey scrambled over to the body, seriously hoping he was just unconscious.

Stiles' body was still burning hot but he felt for a pulse anyway.

Exactly what Casey was hoping wouldn't happen was happening, Stiles pulse was extremely weak.

He was dying.


End file.
